Shadow Chasing, page 13
Immediately he dropped his gaze. “I didn’t mean to. It seems I do everything wrong where you’re concerned. I thought I’d play it cool today when you arrived. And the minute I saw you every nonchalant greeting I’d practiced died on my lips.”
“Mine, too,” she confessed shakily.
“I’m still having trouble believing that you came.”
“We both need to thank Gramps for that.”
“I think we should name our first son after him.”
Carla shook her head. “He’d never forgive us for naming a boy Otis.”
“We’ll name him after your dad, then.”
“He’d like that.” Good heavens, the sun must have some effect on her mind. Here they were discussing the names of their children, and Carla wasn’t even convinced she should marry Philip!
“Jeff and Sylvia are here,” he announced, and his expression became sober. Carla turned and noticed a sky-blue half-ton pickup kick up gravel as it pulled into the parking lot.
A lanky fellow with a thick patch of dark hair jumped down from the driver’s seat and hurried around to help his obviously pregnant wife.
Sylvia, a petite blonde with warm blue eyes, pressed a hand to the small of her back as she ambled toward them. Carla guessed that Jeff’s wife must be seven or eight months pregnant.
“Hi, you must be Carla.” Jeff held out his hand, not waiting for an introduction.
“Hi. You must be Jeff.”
Sylvia offered her a gracious smile. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“The whole team’s ecstatic she could make it. Philip hasn’t been worth a damn since he got back from Mexico. I certainly hope you’re going to put this poor guy out of his misery and marry him.”
Carla’s startled eyes clashed with Philip’s. This was exactly what she’d feared would happen. She didn’t want to have to answer these kinds of questions. They were bad enough coming from Philip and Gramps.
“I…I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” she answered stiffly, her eyes challenging Philip.
Chapter 9
The warm sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, and the sunbaked land cheerfully welcomed the cool breath of evening. The flickering flames of a campfire licked at the remaining pieces of dry wood.
Sylvia and Carla were the last to remain by the dying fire. The other women were busy tucking their little ones into bed, and the sound of their whispers and hushed giggles filled the still evening air. Carla and Sylvia glanced at each other and grinned. Next year Sylvia would be joining the other young mothers. And next year Carla…She closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn’t know what she’d be doing.
Jeff, Philip, and the rest of the ten-man relay team were meeting to plan their strategy for the coming race. An air of excitement drifted through the campgrounds. The Great Soap Lake Canoe Race had dominated the conversation all afternoon. This was the first year the Spokane Police Department was competing, and their cheering squad held high expectations. For the last couple years, the eighteen-and-a-half-mile course had been won by a two-man marathon team in the amazing time of two hours and thirty minutes. Philip’s teammates seemed to think that ten men in top physical condition could easily outmaneuver two. The most incredible fact, Carla thought, was that every team that had ever entered this outrageous competition had finished. “Carla?” Sylvia’s voice broke into her reverie, and she looked up.
“Hmm?”
“Jeff didn’t mean to put you on the spot this afternoon—about marrying Philip, I mean,” Sylvia said shyly. “It’s just that we all like him so much.”
“I…like Philip, too.” The toe of Carla’s sandal traced lazy patterns in the dirt. “In fact, I love him.”
“You didn’t need to tell me that. It’s obvious.”
A sad smile played at the edges of Carla’s mouth. She liked Sylvia. She’d discovered that she liked all of Philip’s friends. They had welcomed her without hesitation and accepted her as a part of their group, going out of their way to include her in the conversation and activities. One of Philip’s friends had worked in Seattle for a short time and remembered Carla’s father. Perhaps that was the reason she was accepted so quickly, but Carla didn’t like to think so.
“The natural thing to do when two people love one another is to get married,” Sylvia suggested softly.
“Not always,” Carla answered with an emotional tremor in her voice. “Oftentimes there are…extenuating circumstances. My father’s a policeman.”
“I heard.” Sylvia slipped her arms into the sleeves of the thin sweater draped over her shoulders and leaned back against the folding chair. “I can understand your hesitancy. Being a policeman isn’t the kind of work I would have chosen for Jeff. There are too many worries, too many potential dangers that affect both our lives. But Jeff’s career is an important part of who he is. It was a package deal, and I’ve had to learn to accept it. Each police wife must come to grips with it sooner or later.”
“Philip’s got to be the most patient man in the world to put up with me.”
“He loves you.” Sylvia smiled. “I remember the first week after Philip returned from Mexico. Jeff complained every night.” She paused and laughed softly. “A lovesick Philip took us all by surprise. We just didn’t expect him to be so human. He’s been as solid as a rock, and we were shocked to discover he’s as vulnerable as the rest of us.”
“He was in love with a flight attendant a few years ago. Did you ever meet Nicole?”
“No.” Sylvia shook her head slowly. “That was before I married Jeff. But I can remember him mentioning how hard Philip took it when they split up. I think Jeff’s worried the same thing is going to happen again.”
Rather than offer reassurances she didn’t have, Carla said, “Philip’s like that. Everything is done full measure.”
“Everything,” Sylvia agreed.
“Nicole was a fool to let him go.” Carla paused and sucked in her breath, realizing what she’d just said. She’d be a fool to allow her fears and inhibitions to ruin her life. Yet something within her, some unresolved part of herself, couldn’t accept what Philip was. The other wives had come to terms, appreciating their men for what they were. Carla hadn’t honored Philip’s commitment to his career, just as her mother had never been able to fully respect her father’s dedication to his. The thought was so profound that it caused Carla to straighten. Maybe for the first time in her life, she needed to talk with her mother.
“Would you like some help out of that chair, Mommy?” Jeff asked as he stepped behind his wife and lovingly rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Next time, I’m going to let him be the one to get pregnant,” Sylvia teased, and extended her hand, accepting her husband’s offer of assistance.
With their arms wrapped around each other, Jeff and Sylvia headed toward their tent.
“Night, Carla,” Sylvia called back with a yawn. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night.”
“Are you tired?” Philip asked, as he took the chair Sylvia had vacated.
“Not yet.” Not when she could spend a few minutes alone with Philip. Not when they could sit undisturbed in the quiet of the night and talk. There were so many things she wanted to tell him. But in the peaceful solitude by the campfire, none of them seemed important.
“It’s a beautiful night,” he murmured, as he leaned back and stared up at the sky. “In fact, tonight reminds me of Mexico and this incredibly lovely woman I once held in my arms.”
“If I close my eyes, I can almost hear the surf against the shore,” Carla responded, joining his game. “And if I try, really try, I can picture this incredibly wonderful man I met in Mexico sitting across from me.”
Philip’s chuckle was deep and warm. “How hard do you need to try?”
“It’s not so difficult, really.”
“I should hope not.” Philip smiled and moved his chair so that they were sitting side by side. When he sat back down and reached for her hand, Carla glanced at him. His strong face was profiled in the moonlight, his look deep and thoughtful.
“Have you got your strategy all worked out, oh master of the canoe race?” she asked lightly. His pensive look troubled her. She didn’t want anything to ruin these few minutes alone together; this wasn’t the time to discuss her doubts or find the answers to nagging questions.
“Pretty much.” He grimaced and quickly disguised a look of pain.
“Philip, what’s wrong?” Her voice was unnaturally high with concern. “You’re not feeling well, are you?” Immediately she knelt at his side and touched his brow, which was cool and revealed no sign of a fever.
“It’s nothing.” He tried to dispel her worry with a wide grin. “Nerves, I think. I’m always this way before a race.”
Returning to her chair, Carla nodded. “I had the lead in a play when I was in the eighth grade, and I was deathly sick before the first performance. I know what you mean.”
“Have you and Sylvia decided where you’re going to position yourselves to cheer us on?”
Apparently, Philip didn’t want to talk about his nerves: this Carla understood and could sympathize. “At the finish line. Sylvia isn’t in any condition to go running from lake to lake with the rest of the team. So we’ve decided to plant ourselves there and wait for our dedicated heroes to bring in the trophy.”
“You may have a long wait,” Philip said wryly and grimaced again.
Carla decided not to comment this time, but she was concerned. “Five lakes, Philip. Are you guys honestly going to canoe across five lakes?”
“We’re going to paddle like crazy across each one, then lift the boat over our heads and run like madmen to the checkpoint. From there the next two-man team will take the canoe and the whole process will start again.”
“Which lakes?” Carla had heard them mentioned only fleetingly.
“Park, Blue, Alkali, Lenore, and Soap.”
“I think you’re all a little nuts.”
“We must be,” Philip agreed soberly. “But to be honest, I’d swim, hike, canoe, and run a lot farther than a few miles for an excuse to have you with me.” He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.
He studied her in the moonlight, and, feeling wretched, Carla lowered her eyes. “I don’t know how you can love me,” she murmured.
“Patience has its own rewards.”
“I do love you.” But a declaration of love, she knew, was only a small part of what he wanted from her.
“I know.” He stood and offered her his arm. “I think we should both turn in. Tomorrow’s going to be a full day.” His voice was bland, almost impersonal, but his tone was at odds with the look in his eyes. Carla would have sworn he was hiding something from her, and it was a whole lot more than nerves.
Philip’s kiss outside her tent was brief, as if he was more preoccupied with the race than he was with having her near. It could be nerves, but they’d seen each other only twice since Mexico and she’d thought he’d do a whole lot more than peck her cheek when it came time to say good night. A hand on her hip, Carla tipped her head to one side and flashed him a confused glance as he turned toward the tent he was sharing with another officer. Carla didn’t know what was troubling Philip, but she’d bet hard cash it had nothing to do with her or the race. But whatever it was, he wasn’t going to tell her. That hurt; it seemed to prove that Philip didn’t feel he could discuss his problems with her. He wanted her to share his life, but there was a part of himself he would always hold back. The same way her father had from her mother.
* * *
—
Carla didn’t know there were this many people in all eastern Washington. The start of the race was jam-packed with participants, friends, casual observers, and cheering fans. Some of the contestants wore identifying uniforms that would distinguish themselves as being looney enough to participate in such a laughable race.
Everyone had been laughing and joking before the race, but when the gun went off, the competition began in earnest; each team was determined to win.
Jumping up and down with the others and clapping as hard as she could, Carla was caught up in the swirl of craziness that seemed to have engulfed the entire city of Soap Lake.
Three hours later, when Philip and Jeff crossed the finish line, placing a respectable fifth, Carla and Sylvia had cheered and laughed themselves weak.
Dramatically throwing themselves down on the grass, both men lay staring at the cloudless blue sky, panting.
Jeff spoke first. “Next year,” he managed breathlessly, “we’ll go after the trophy.”
* * *
—
Sitting around the picnic table at the campgrounds later that afternoon, Philip positioned himself by Carla’s side and casually draped his arm over her shoulder. “Do you think we should compete again next year?”
Carla lowered her hot dog to the plate. “It’d be a shame not to. You were only twenty minutes off the best time, and with a little practice you’re bound to improve. Don’t you agree?”
“On one condition. That you promise to be on my cheering squad again next year.” His eyes searched hers, seeming to need reassurance.
Confidently, Carla placed her hand on his. “You got it.” The sun beamed off the gold band of her watch, and Carla noticed the time and groaned.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’ve got to leave.”
“Now?”
Sadly, she shook her head. “Soon. In order to have Friday afternoon free, I traded days with another girl who’s on call tomorrow.”
“Which means?” His eyes narrowed.
“Which means I have to be back tonight by midnight, in case there’s an emergency.”
Standing, Philip tossed his paper plate in the garbage can. Carla dumped the remainder of her lunch away and followed Philip to a large oak tree, where he stood, staring at the ground.
“It was hardly worth your while to make the trip. I’m surprised you came.”
“I’m glad I did. I enjoyed meeting your friends, especially Sylvia and Jeff.”
He pursed his lips, and Carla studied him suspiciously. He looked as if he wanted to argue, and she couldn’t understand why. Planting herself in front of him, her legs braced slightly apart, she stared at him until he met her gaze. “It’s not going to work, you know.”
He frowned. “What’s not going to work?”
“Starting an argument. I refuse to react to your anger. I wish I could stay. If it was up to me, I would. But circumstances being what they are, I’ve got to leave this afternoon.” She paused and drew a long breath. “Now. Will you walk me to the tent and spend the next few minutes saying good-bye to me properly, or are you going to stand here and pout?”
Philip bristled. “I never pout.”
“Good.” She smiled and reached for his hand. “Then let’s escape for a few minutes of privacy before someone comes looking for us.”
* * *
—
The sun was setting, whisking back the splashes of warm, golden rays, by the time Carla pulled into her apartment parking space. After emerging from the car, she stretched, raising her arms high above her head and yawning. The trip back had been leisurely and had taken the better part of three hours. Philip had promised to connect as soon as he was back in Spokane. That brooding, troubled look had returned when he’d kissed her good-bye. Carla didn’t know what was bothering him, but she guessed that it had nothing to do with her. Already he was acting like her father, afraid to tell her something he knew could upset her. If she was going to consider being his wife, she didn’t want him treading lightly around information she had a right to know. She’d ask him about it Monday night.
* * *
—
Sunday afternoon, while on call at the hospital, Carla drove to her parents’ house.
“Hi, Mom,” she said as she let herself in the front door. Rachel Walker was sitting on the worn sofa, knitting a sweater.
“Who’s this one for?” Carla asked, as she sat across from her mother, admiring the collage of colored yarn. Rachel was constantly doing something—idle hands led to boredom, she had always said. She was a perfectionist housekeeper, and now that Carla and her brother had left home, she busied herself with craft projects.
“Julianne,” her mother replied without a pause between stitches, her fingers moving with a skill that was amazing. “She’ll need a warm sweater this fall for first grade. She’s six now, you know.”
“Yes.” Both her nieces had always been special to Carla, and she’d missed them terribly since her brother and his wife had moved to Oregon.
“Where’s Dad?”
Briefly, a hurt look rushed across her mother’s face. “He’s playing on the men’s softball team again this year.” The Seattle Police Department had several teams, and Carla’s father loved to participate, but her mother had never gone to watch him play, preferring to stay at home. What Joe did outside the house was his business, because it involved the police force—and Rachel had never had anything to do with the force.
“Actually, I’m glad Dad isn’t here, because I’d like to talk to you alone.”
“To me?” Momentarily, Rachel glanced up from her handiwork.
“I’m in love with Philip Garrison,” Carla announced, and closed her eyes, preparing for the backlash that was sure to follow.
“I think I already knew that,” her mother replied calmly. “In fact, your father and I were just talking about the two of you.”
“And?”
“We agreed that you and Philip will do fine. What I said to you the other night isn’t altogether valid. We are alike, Carla, in many ways, but in others we’re completely different.”
